


blossoming

by try_reset (technorat)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Based on a Tumblr Post, Developing Relationship, M/M, Post TLJ, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Referenced violence, Soulmates
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-15
Updated: 2018-03-15
Packaged: 2019-03-31 21:44:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,421
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13983918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/technorat/pseuds/try_reset
Summary: "When your soulmate gets hurt you receive a flower tattoo on your body on the same location they were wounded.Hux knew after the fall of the Starkiller. Kylo knew after the battle of Crait."Based onepiimetheux's lovely art





	blossoming

**Author's Note:**

> Based on [epiimetheux's lovely art](http://epiimetheux.tumblr.com/post/171269140149/when-your-soulmate-gets-hurt-you-receive-a-flower)
> 
> thank you to [Martin](http://ee-void.tumblr.com) for beta-ing this!
> 
> you can find me [here](http://gaygalaxyguy.tumblr.com) on Tumblr
> 
> warnings: references to violence (that occurred in TFA and TLJ), scenes in a medical field, and repeated referencing of injuries

In the shuttle, while they escaped from Starkiller, Hux realized three things: 1) Kylo Ren was lucky to be alive at all--with his face bisected, a crossbow wound to the side, and various other, smaller injuries; 2) That his injures matched the locations of floral tattoos that had blossomed on Hux's skin; 3) That he did not know whether to keep it a secret or not.

Kneeling, where Ren had choked him in Snoke's former throne room, he was glad that Ren had never found the truth. 

That they were irrevocably connected, through their mutual maps of scars and flowers.

That they were soulmates.

"The Supreme Leader is dead," Hux says, through the hold of the Force choke. "All hail the Supreme Leader."

Ren lets go.

Hux hates him.

*

And again, when Ren throws him, against the interior of the Silencer. The air leaves him all at once, a pitiful sound meeting his ears.

It takes him a moment to realize the pitiful sound had come from  _ him _ of all people.

Hux just lies there for a moment, taking stuttering gasps of air. His sides will bruise. Maybe some ribs had snapped.

He doesn't think of the matching marks that must surely grow underneath the Supreme Leader's clothing. He doesn't think of the tears that fill his eyes. He doesn't think at all.

*

*

*

The Confrontation at Crait had been an utter disaster. Luke, never there to begin with. Leia, the scavenger girl, the traitor, and more, all escaped unharmed. And countless losses on the First Order's side.

Ren storms off to his chambers on the Finalizer leaving Hux alone on the Bridge, to start the process of salvage--to save all that could be saved.

He paces the length of the room, fists clenched.

He pauses before Vader's burnt out helmet. Those empty eyes stay empty--no advice to be had, no strength to be gained.

Everything weighs on him. The grease of his hair, the salt against his skin. Slowly, Ren makes his way to his fresher.

He throws his clothes onto the floor of the fresher, leaving them for the hapless cleaning droids, before stepping into the water shower.

Warm water soaks his hair, rolling down the planes of his back. He shuts his eyes, rubbing them aggressively. Nothing had gone right that cycle. Things could only get better the next.

He opens his eyes.

Flowers cover his side. Ren blinks, pinching roughly at his flesh to examine them.

His soulmate had gotten hurt.

He turns off the shower and steps out, water dripping from his form. He meets his eyes in the mirror, momentarily taken aback by the deep-set, haunted look to them.

Thick patches of white flowers wrap neatly around his throat.

The hairs on his neck rise. His skin crawls. The room loses its usual warmth.

Hux.

Ren stares at himself in the mirror, not quite recognizing the pale expanses of gooseflesh and white flowers. As he watches, the patch of flowers on his side grows, blossoming thicker and more thoroughly.

Hux?

Ren shakes his head, throwing on his old, sweaty tunic and leggings. He pulls on his boots just as fiercely and dashes out into the hall.

He stumbles into a lieutenant, knocking her to the ground. She scrambles to her hands and knees, snatching her hat and placing it firmly over her tightly braided hair. When she rises, Ren takes in her unnatural pallor.

"Sir," the officer says, catching her breath. She holds a gloved hand against her chest.

"What is it?" Ren growls out. He has a ginger weasel to throttle. How long had he known? How long had he kept it hidden?

The officer's eyes water, her lower lip trembles. "General Hux has collapsed."

Ren takes it in stride. So the General had fainted? Serves him right for hiding what links them together. "And...?"

She blinks rapidly, distress seeping from her. "He's being seen in the medbay. General Hux fell into one of the data pits and hit his head on the way down, a-and--"

Tears begin to rolls down her cheeks. She shakes her head, growing more and more distressed.

Ren almost feels pity for her. Almost.

He walks away, leaving her alone in the halls, with no one to see her shame.

*

No one stops him in medbay.

If anything, all the medical officers leap from his path.

Hux had been given a private room. Ren can see why.

Hux looks like a corpse, bones prominent against grey-tinged skin. He lies in the bed, looking small and out of place. The sheets pool around his hips. His chest is bare, bruises covered by clear Bacta bandages.

Needles prick in the small of his arms.

Ren moves to read the labels on each IV--liquid nutrition, pain medication, a mood stabilizer, a tranquilizer feed into Hux.

Ren pulls up the sleeve of his tunic, finding matching, tiny flowers littering the crook of his elbow. 

It should make him rage, scream, slash open durasteel walls.

He does none of the above, staring at the gooseflesh expanse of Hux’s skin, how the man shivers at room temperature. 

Slowly, Ren removes his cape from around his shoulders, draping it over Hux’s half nude form instead, cloaking him in his sweat, his blood, his scent. It’s possessive and vindictive, with everything the two men have been through and have done to one another, but if fate itself had put them together, Ren would not be so cruel as to spite it.

He drags a chair closer to Hux’s bedside with the Force, making himself as comfortable as he could in the cramped thing, listening to the steady beat of Hux’s heart.

He doesn’t notice his eyes falling shut until it is too late to fight sleep’s grasp.

*

Ren wakes up, his neck sore and his back protesting.

It’s the fullest night of sleep he’s had since… since before he could remember. Possibly ever.

Hux stares up at him, through drug-hazed eyes. “Supreme Leader,” he says, licking his dry, cracked lips. “What are you doing here, sir?”

Ren lifts a brow. As if the man doesn’t know. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Hux’s brows pinch together, a crease forming between them. It takes him longer to think, with all that’s pumped into him. “Tell you—”

“That we are  _ soulmates. _ ”

Ren’s teeth clash together, clicking violently.

Hux sighs softly, leaning back against the pillows. He stares at the ceiling. “There was no time.”

“No time?” Ren repeats, snorting. “Surely you could have slotted something as important as that into your schedule.”

The harsh lights of medbay only serve to wash him out more, making his already prominent cheekbones stand out sharply against pallid skin. Sweat beads on Hux’s forehead.

“I’m waiting,” Ren says, drawing out his words.

Hux shuts his eyes, the skin surrounding bruised and thin. It looks like the weight of the world’s been put on his narrow shoulders—that he’s cracked under pressure.

“There was no time between recovering you from Starkiller and delivering you to Snoke to pull you aside and tell you something so stupid,” Hux manage. He opens his eyes, bright and burning. “And besides, I don’t think it matters much, not since you threw me in front of all of my men.”

“ _ My _ men,” Ren snaps. “And  _ my General _ too.”

Hux snorts. “Our men perhaps.”

Ren ignores the comment, spoken underneath Hux’s breath. “So now what?”

“Now nothing,” Hux says. The fire leaves his gaze, leaving blue-green-grey eyes strangely glassy. Like he’s given up, even with Ren’s cloak surrounding him like a shield.

His mind is strangely quiet, no emotions leaking forth. Except. Tiredness. A wave hits Ren square in the chest, choking him. Exhaustion, not his own. Exhaustion carried from before Crait, before Starkiller.

A beaten dog who’s learned helplessness.

“Leave,” Hux says, with a sigh, the fight gone out of him. 

Ren doesn’t know what to do, so he does as those in his family always resort to in these sorts of situations: he runs.

*

His parents rejected him. Then Luke.

Rey rejected his offer, back in the throne room, back when his existence revolved around hers. And now their bond lays broken, splintering at his fingertips.

Even Hux rejected him, in a quieter, resigned way.

It’s unfair—he feels cheated, twice over.

He wants to scream, to rage, to tear everything apart with his lightsaber. But he doesn’t, thinking of the flowers that line his body and the bruises that line Hux’s own.

It isn’t fair, isn’t fair, how the Universe tied them together when they couldn't even stand to be in one another's company.

Ren collapses, onto his too narrow bed and seethes, grinding his teeth together. His vision grows blurry between unwanted tears.

How had it all come to this?

*

In the morning of the next cycle, Ren dresses and washes his face with cold water. He is the Supreme Leader. The First Order answers to him. The First Order  _ needs _ him.

It's what he tells himself as he stalks onto the Bridge, cloak billowing behind him.

He freezes in place, eyes locked on Hux.

Hux, who stands at the center of the Bridge, datapad in hand and coat hanging off his shoulders. Like he hadn't collapsed last cycle. Like he doesn't bear bruises, both old and new.

Hux looks up from his datapad, eyes meeting Ren's own. "Supreme Leader," he greets simply before returning to work.

"General Hux. May I have a word with you in private?" Ren asks, circling close.

The tension on the Bridge is almost palpable. Officers slow their work, eyes straying to the small of Ren's back. No one is foolish as to speak up, but it's the  _ want _ for someone to stand up to the Supreme Leader and his supposed bullying.

At least... it’s what the young members of the First Order think, their indoctrination to the Order and worship of Hux utterly pitiful.

The older, Imperial remnants however... Ren can  _ feel _ their distaste, feel as they preen and content themselves, thinking that Ren will hurt Hux again, wishing that they could do the same.

Ren blinks, thinking of his earlier actions.

Of the floral tattoos that litter his skin.

"Very well, Supreme Leader. To my office then," Hux says, voice so sore Ren can hear the pain of it. He turns his back on Ren, leading the way away from the Bridge and from prying eyes.

Ren stares at the back of his neck, his collar hiding the bruises that wrap around his throat.

The door to Hux's office slides shut behind Ren, as Hux seats himself behind his desk and picks up a steaming mug of tarine tea. Ren can smell its bitterness from where he stands, watching. Waiting.

Hux takes a slow, measured sip, relishing in the tea's taste. "Well?" he finally says, arching a brow. "What is it, Supreme Leader?"

Ren takes careful steps forwards, taking a seat across from Hux. He places his hands on the smoked glass top of the desk--one of the few luxuries Hux allowed himself. The glass is smooth and cold underhand. It would be easy to break, if he were not careful.

Much like the owner himself.

"Shouldn't you be in medbay?" Ren asks, speaking softly, softer than he's ever spoken to Hux before.

It takes Hux aback too. He narrows his eyes at Ren, suspicion rising from his form like smoke.

Hux collects himself, blinking rapidly. He presses his lips into a fine line, considering his words. "I am well enough to serve, sir."

Ren frowns. It isn't what he wants to hear. "You don't have to call me that," he says. In here, in private, they are just two men. Two parts of a whole. Soulmates.

Hux scrunches up his nose, a microexpression that gives up his disgust. "Very well Ren," he says, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Is there anything else or are you quite done?"

Ren reaches up, pulling down the collar to his shirt, revealing the thick patches of flowers. They haven't faded much from the previous cycle, even with Hux's trip to medbay.

Hux flinches at the sight, looking around as if worried someone else to see.

But no one will.

They are alone.

Hux sighs. He looks years older suddenly, weary and brought down by it. "So you interrupted my cycle to fret about bruises you put on me yourself?" 

Ren raises a hand. "You misunderstand."

He doesn't miss the way Hux  _ flinches _ away from him, pupils dilating to mere pinpricks. Ren lowers his hand, but doesn't apologize. He can't. His words are lost to him.

Hux's face floods with red. "I  _ misunderstand _ ," he parrots back, mockingly, rising to his feet. "Tell me, Ren, did I misunderstand the fact that you hadn't cared about hurting me until you found out that we were soulmates? I didn't matter to you one  _ kark _ until you saw the flowers."

He trembles with the force of his anger.

Ren opens his mouth, his dry, sticky mouth, and finds nothing to say.

Hux pales, looking away. "Get out of my sight, Ren."

Ren complies.

*

Hux's words haunt him to the next day, hanging over his neck as heavy as any noose. 

The floral tattoos remain where they are, doing nothing but blossoming more brightly. He learns Hux is easy to bruise and slow to heal, evidence visible on both of their bodies.

He hadn't planned on apologizing. He hadn't planned on doing anything at all.

But his stomach turns whenever he sees himself in the fresher mirror. When Hux flinches even slightly at his words--too loud, too sudden, too Ren. When his dreams at night turn to repeating the revelation of them being connected so intimately, forced apart by Ren's hand.

So. 

He does what he thinks would help.

Grand Marshal Hux is standing on the Bridge, overlooking the reparation of ships destroyed by the Resistance's Admiral Holdo and her final maneuver. He stands up straight, not noticing a strand of ginger hair fall free from his pomade and fall across his forehead.

Their eyes meet, separated by a datapit.

Hux opens his mouth, cheeks red, looking every bit as indignant and ungrateful as Ren would expect.

Ren stops him, allowing a small smile to creep along his face. He turns around, leaving the Bridge silently, letting Hux come to terms.

*

During the gamma cycle, Ren receives a visitor at his door. 

Ren rises to greet him.

He knows exactly who it is.


End file.
